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“No.”
He was the owner. He had rights. And he was pretty sure that one of them was the right to maintain his property. Pretty sure. He’d have to look it up.
“I’m warning you,” she growled.
He shrugged. She didn’t scare him. Seriously – what could she do? He turned his back and started the motor again. The window slammed shut above him. Jack smiled smugly. Power. It was all about taking the power back.
He didn’t hear her come up behind him. And he didn’t see the scissors until it was too late. She didn’t hesitate before snipping the cord that started the motor. Then she leaned over and flicked the switch that stopped it. Without a word she stalked back into the house, slamming the door behind her.
Damn. Jack looked at the borrowed motor. He couldn’t start it now.
“I’m adding this to your rent,” he shouted at the house.
There was silence. Jack stood with hands on hips wondering what else he could do that was noisy enough to cheese her off. Nothing came to mind. With a sigh of frustration, he picked up his garden shears and set about trimming the shrubbery. All the while wishing he had an electric-powered hedge trimmer.
Jack was sitting on the porch steps drinking Ethiopian coffee from a flask and munching his way through a stack of sandwiches, when the back door opened. He glanced at this watch – nine o’clock. She’d stayed in bed until the middle of the morning. Slowly, he turned to deal with his tenant and his heart stopped dead.
“I’m running a few errands,” she told him as she slid a pair of over-sized sunglasses up her nose. “The door is alarmed. I’ll be gone most of the day. See you later.”
She tottered past him on spiked heels that were the colour of blood. Jack grabbed her lower arm, making her stop on the step beside him.
“What?” she demanded.
Unfortunately his tongue was welded to the roof of his mouth.
“Hey.” She clicked her fingers in front of him. “I’m in a hurry. I have people to see. What is it?”
He ran his eyes up the length of her. She was wedged into a figure-hugging red dress. It reminded him of something a vamp would wear in a 1940s film noir. It barely stayed on her shoulders before curving into the deep line of her cleavage. She pointed a red clutch bag at him.
“Hoi, you. Let go.”
Her auburn hair fell in waves over her shoulders, as deep red lips pouted at him.
There were words in his head, but he couldn’t get them out of his mouth.
Davina rolled her eyes and yanked her arm from him. She sashayed down the steps towards her tiny car. Her keys were already in her hand. Any second now, she would be gone. Unless he stopped her. He dropped his sandwich and ran to stand in front of her.
“What’s the problem now?” She pouted up at him.
Jack said the first thing that popped into his mind.
“You can’t go out like that.”
She cocked an eyebrow.
“Really?”
“It’s too revealing.”
“Revealing?”
She looked down at herself then back up at him. She clearly thought he was mad.
“It’s too sexy,” he said helpfully.
“Thank you.”
She tried to step around him. He moved to block her again.
